


Stochastic Process

by Weirdy



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, no time travel, progressively gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirdy/pseuds/Weirdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rounded retelling of the story of the 3 first episodes with magic powers/ominous happenings excluded. Focused on Max and Chloe's relationship, so it's an arbitrary choice of events.</p><p>It's alike but it's different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native english speaker, if you spot some gross mistake, please tell me so I can fix it.

I

 

Wishing she could bury herself in the ground to never come out again, Max made her way down the hallway, aiming for the bathroom. She needed some time alone; to not be in anyone's sight for a while; to not think about the last class in which she was purposefully embarrassed by Victoria Chase and made look stupid in front of her favorite teacher.

High school drama, anywhere, was still a bitch.

She walked, looking around, mentally trying to put names to the faces; there's _the boy who draws, a jock annnd another jock, gorgeous girl, nerdy girl, missing girl._

 

II

 

Max pushed the lady's room door open and was immediately taken aback. Nathan Prescott stood right at the side pressing himself to someone. During three seconds nobody moved and everyone stared at her. _Am I interrupting something?_ Then he mumbled some curse and she could see him retreat and hide a gun in his clothes, shoving her aside on his way out.

To say Max was scared shitless was an understatement.

"Max?" the other person; a girl, tall as fuck, blue hair and every bit a punk stereotype called her name, "Max Caulfield?". Max stared at her, thoughts rushing, limbs trembling, memories flipping faster than lightning. _Ah_.

"Chloe?" Well, the weird gets weirder. The longer she stared, the more she could make out Chloe Price's features. _Still not safe to assume, though._

'Chloe', without much of a warning, pulled her into a hug. "You hella saved my life," Max arms went on familiar reflex, accepting the hug. Yeah, it felt like Chloe. _Goddammit._

"Chloe, w-what's happening? And why is Nath-" she was midsentence when Chloe wrapped her fingers around Max's wrist and suggested that they should 'bail before that psycho comes back’.

They walked down the stairs in the entrance, in direction of the parking lot; Chloe said she would drive them somewhere safe. The entire way, the silence was excused by the need to be alert in case Nathan were still around. In the parking lot, Max could see her friend Warren leaning against a car and when he (promptly) spotted her, he waved at her to come closer, but Chloe's matter was quite pressing and overwhelming at the moment and she guiltily ignored him. _Sorry Warren, I'll make it up to you._

They reached Chloe's ancient truck and she drove away from Blackwell with screeching tires.

 

III

 

Max was finally able to breath on a normal rhythm again. The adrenaline wearing out, danger no longer in mind; the silence now, fell heavy and uncomfortable upon them.

Independent of any trouble Chloe was involved in, no one was more in the wrong than Max. Five years without a single word to her former best-friend-forever. _Failed big time on staying in touch_. Max could feel her cheeks flaming and kept looking down to no avail.

"Don't give me the guilty face. At least pretend you're glad to see me," Chloe, always one to take the initiative, filled in, not angry or accusatory but nonchalant as hell.

The last twenty minutes or so had been a hectic experience, the sensations didn't match and nothing made sense. Here she was, in the passenger seat of an old friend's car that should hate her guts, driving during the sunset in the bucolic scenery of her hometown; after just busting the entitled prick of Blackwell pointing a gun at said friend; and her worry number one at the moment was whether or not Chloe would be the better person.

Max wanted to convey that she was sorry; that she regretted not keeping in touch just when her best friend needed her the most. Even though moving to Seattle and having to settle herself all over again was a lot hard to Max, in comparison, losing her father and, metaphorically, her best friend right after was a pack Max didn't have to deal with. She had missed Chloe endlessly and thought about her often, wishing they could loot the big city's treasures together. _Chloe would have loved Seattle._

When Max left, Chloe had been in a fragile emotional state; too quiet and bleak; closed off. And every time Max pumped herself into sending a text, she lost her backbone in face of not knowing what to say. And time settled upon the silence. And silence became the routine. And Max wasn't one to break routine.

Telling her best friend that she didn't speak to her for five years because she grew accustomed to it wasn't going to help her case. So, she reassured Chloe as much as she could that she was really happy to see her. And that was thru.

Then, Max decided to indulge on the higher life-threatening subjects first. “So, what was that all about… with Nathan?” she managed to articulate, soft spoken and curious.

“Got some dirt on him. Asshole kinda owes me money,” Chloe seemed quite unfazed for someone just out of the brink of death, but maybe that was just her now. _How would I know?_

“Are you blackmailing him?! Chloe that’s crazy, he has a gun. You could have died.”

“But you were there to save my ass. Isn’t it, Super Max?” Chloe chuckled at her own teasing, and Max, albeit relieved to see Chloe being playful, felt concerned at the type of life she was leading these days.

 

IV

 

The truck parked misaligned on the garage entrance of the Price residence. Now, a lot more beat up than Max remembered, but she was polite and made it sound like a compliment.

So much was still there. Furniture, shelves and books, paintings, the step that creaked, the wine stain; and so much was new, like an old picture restored and damaged again. Such a conflicting feeling.

They went upstairs, Chloe opened the door to her room and all poesy of nostalgia got lost on Max. It was a plain mess. Messier than messy. But a lot telling in a certain way. _Chloe, who are you now?_

They just listened to music and talked about life, y'know. Chloe was being more receptive than Max had imagined she would be, maybe because of that 'saving her life' thingy, earlier. But a certain edge could still be felt; the resentment was bare on Chloe's voice, in the way she scanned Max, noticing all the small changes, on the clench of her jaw when Max talked about the life she had that excluded Chloe. _I never forgot._

At some point, Chloe unearthed a blunt from a box under her bed, lit it and started to smoke, she offered it to Max, showing good manners, who declined without fuss. Drugs, in most forms, weren't her thing.

In her wanderings around the room, Max found many, many pieces of the story of this blue girl, uncovering inch by inch what happened to her best friend in the past years.

Max couldn't deny that Chloe's looks were cool, she was taller (like she needed it) and womanlier, the short hair did her good and the whole-arm tattoo had Max impressed. Chloe had always been pretty ( _the beautiful friend_ ), but 19-years-old Chloe Price was more than pretty, she was... _sexy._

Nosying the stuff on the desk, Max found a pile of those missing person posters, _Rachel Amber_ , connecting the dots.

"You know Rachel Amber? Her posters are all over Blackwell."

Chloe looked at her, as if she had forgotten about her presence. "Yeah, I put them up." She made a stretched pause filled with longing, regret and smoke. "We were... friends," the last word hissing at the end.

Max was no fool, if anything, she was more perceptive than most, and the little hints suggested that 'friends' wasn't an accurate description of their relationship. But thought it better not to assume, so she kept the subject on the investigative light, "What happened to her?"

"She left," Chloe wasn't looking at anything in particular, but Max could guess she was seeing a place no longer tangible, "I mean, I first thought she was missing. As you can see," she scoffed, gesturing vaguely at the desk direction, "but, turns out she got a chance to bail this fuckhole town and everybody altogether."

"How do you know?"

"Rachel called me the other day. ‘To let me know’. Said she got the chance of her life and it was like, take it or leave it… We were going to hit Los Angeles together..." Chloe said everything in an one go, like she needed to just talk and not dwell too much in every meaning. "Well, not anymore, I guess."

Then she stood up, as someone who just finished a heavy unpleasant task, and went to her laptop, changing the melancholic song for something upbeat.

"Enough of this mushy talk. Let’s stage dive!" She jumped onto the bed and started to dance alone, uncaring; the girl knows her moves. Max wasn't a spontaneous person, dancing was a big nope to her. But that moment felt so great, Chloe's lean body sliding through the song, the smoke around being caught by orange sunlight, giving the ambient this sultry atmosphere. To Max, the photography obsessed, only felt fit to reach for her camera and save that instant forever inside the frame of a picture.

Max was getting to know her all over again. Chloe Price: outside straight up rebel with a complete disregard for man's rules who also listened to soft sad indie songs about lost love.

Chloe was almost convincing her to actually loosen up and dance when a booming voice yelled from downstairs.

“Shit! It’s my step-douche. He can’t find you here.” Max was at a loss of what to do. _Whatafuck?!_

Chloe looked around trying to assess a plan of action, “We gotta bail. Quick, through the window,” she whisper-shouted, closing the laptop lid to shut down the music, clearing a path on the desk before hopping off, in catlike flow. Max tumbled right after, in a blur of unrefined motion.

The two girls climbed down the roof before the loud banging on the door stopped; almost as if they had practiced the route a million times, Chloe and Max sneaked out the house and were on the road so fast that any bank-robber would have been proud.

 

V

 

They laughed madly while the suburban houses gave place to the Pacific Forest. And again there was silence. But this time, Max felt it relaxing instead of oppressing. It wasn’t been three hours yet and they already had had more strange adventures than in her entire time in Seattle. She smiled to herself. _You can’t go home again._

Being back on Chloe’s good side was amazing. Given time, she had made friends; there were Kristen and Fernando in Seattle, the dearest Kate Marsh, and Warren, enthusiastic and supportive fellow geek (albeit restless on his lost quest for her affections). But all those friends weren’t like Chloe. Chloe was… different.

They ended up revisiting an old favorite spot of their shared childhood: the Lighthouse. For an uneventful city, Arcadia Bay for sure compensated in the view. The wild nature around had the ordinary shrink away. And being up there, seeing everything from above always made a sense of omnipotence stir deep in Max’s guts. To preserve this feeling, of course, she snapped a picture or two.

They sat on the only bench, in contemplative silence. Max was still feeling giddy but when she looked over at Chloe, the image of sadness met her eyes. She had that faraway look, unseeing the sea and envisioning somewhere else. _Someone else._

In that moment Max understood a little better how things had changed. Chloe had undergone a lot of shit, and it affected not just her exterior but also deeper places, those where few people reach. Max felt irritated with herself for wishing that her presence, suddenly, were enough.

The day went from shitty, to crazy, to awesome in less than thirty minutes all because of Chloe, a friend whom she had failed. And there was no easy way to excuse such mistake, but if Chloe was up to allow Max to stay, then she was totally going to make it worth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beach mentioned can be seen behind the Lighthouse. I really want to see what's there.

VI

 

Since the day she reunited with Chloe, Max’s daily life took a turn. Before, where she spent most of her free time around the school, if not alone, chatting to Kate or doing homework with Warren, now she spent a lot of this time with Chloe.

They went to her secret lairs, like the junkyard (it shouldn’t sound exciting but it actually was) or the Lighthouse surroundings. Or to edgy stores/pub/tattoo shop where they didn’t do anything but sit, talk and drink soda (if Chloe didn’t manage to convince the staff to sell her beer) accompanied by greasy French fries.

One day they went to the desolated beach at the east of the town. The late autumn finally letting itself appear. The air so chill but Max could see the longing way with which Chloe looked at the waves crashing; she wanted to swim. _Hypothermia much?_

Max made her rounds, taking photos of everything. Who would have guessed that coming back to her lame hometown could fuel her artistic drive so damn much? By now, she had at least a couple dozen shots of Chloe. Alone. She particularly liked those in which she was pensive but Chloe would rather show off her badassery. _She is gorgeous anyway_.

They were sitting side by side on the dry sand, facing the Pacific, the wind messing their hair and prickling their skin. And it felt great.

Max smiled to herself thinking it all oddly romantic. Chloe, the little devil though, didn’t let the chance pass by and poke at her friend giddiness. “Feeling good, dork?”

Max looked at her, sincere and unruffled, “Yeah. It’s just-” she didn’t have the proper words to express it; to name the feeling of greatness ten thousand times bigger than her chest, the same force stretching her lips in that dorky smile. It made her fingers tingle and for unknown reasons blood rushed to her face. She breathed in and out, letting the sentence flow hang and fade.

“Someone is in loooove,” Chloe bumped her shoulder against Max’s, stealing the bottle of beer they were sharing from her fingers.

Max looked down because that statement disturbed her perspective of things and before her brain filtered it, a second line of thought took over and she said, puffing a chuckle “Yeah. You.”

Chloe retreated instantly. The playfulness gone. She averted her eyes to the ocean, once again, unseeing.

Max cringed inside. _Way to go Max_. They never spoke in open terms about Rachel Amber, but everything was laid bare to savvy eyes. Right when Chloe had started to smile more often, distracted of sore subjects, allowing space to heal, Max had to go and stab her heart. She wished she could rewind.

To her surprise though, Chloe didn’t avoid the matter. “I really liked her, y’know,” her voice weak and low and raw. Whirling the beer inside the bottle on her unquiet hand, she took a sip and gave it back to Max to hold.

Max felt her chest constrict, part at the hurt in Chloe’s tone, part in emotion of have her best friend trusting her enough to expose those feelings.

“Were you two in a relationship?”

Chloe chuckled at that, not depreciatively, but almost amused. “Kind of. Rachel didn’t belong to anyone. But dude, I thought I was her favorite.” She threw her blue head back, facing the blue sky. Suddenly, not looking so sad anymore. And then she sucked in a big breath and yelled to the vast, “FUCK OFF!” startling all the living beings.

The girls fell into unstoppable laugh. Chloe was dealing with the pain (in her way, of course) instead of recoiling and let it poison her further. Acknowledging it made everything seem lighter.

Max sipped the beer for once, doing her best to not grimace, and passed the bottle to Chloe. “Sooo, arrre yooou… gaaay?” she semi-sang, tiptoeing lamely into the question, ready to move the discussion forward but giving in to curiosity as well.

Chloe took a sip of the beer before responding, snorting as she had seen that coming “Are you?”

“I asked you first.”

Chloe’s eyebrows quirked up and she smirked in that devious way that suggested she was feeling good. “I guess so, yes. I had a boy-toy phase;” Chloe made a face “it was stupid. Never got off on that anyway. Then I kissed some chicks, y’know, just messing around at parties. Turns out I liked it better… Then I met Rachel at school… y’know.” She scrunched her brow and added after a beat, breaking the seriousness embedded, “Dude, girls are just too hot.”

“Your turn. Tell me the dirty.” She grinned and passed the bottle to Max, who took it and kept nursing it without actually drink.

“I don’t know. I’ve had crushes on boys… and girls. So, maybe bisexual,” she looked up at Chloe, shoulders raising and falling, holding the bottle with both hands, making her seem more childlike. “But I never, like, kissed a girl or something.” _There. Said._

The wind blew, the waves crashed one after the other on the shore, sea birds screamed in the distance and somewhere a boat could be heard.

“You wanna try?”

Three dry words. Max’s heartbeat became erratic. “What?” she was losing her cool. It was happening.

Chloe must been having fun with the situation because her smug defiance only grew. “Go on Max, mack on me. I dare you,” she puckered her lips just to add insult to injury.

Max’s insides were turning nonstop. _What do I do? What do I do?_ Chloe was looking ultra-amused at her, betting her ass that Max would chicken. That was it. Max steeled her resolved, Chloe asked for it, grounded her right hand on Chloe’s shoulder and the left one on her cheek, and closed her eyes (she hadn’t know the proper etiquette to kiss one’s best friend, who heavily flirts with you all the time to the extent one doesn’t know whether or not it’s a joke) before bringing their lips together. All in one fluid movement.

The wind blew, the waves crashed one after the other on the shore, sea birds screamed in the distance and somewhere a boat could be heard.

She could feel the surprised pull of Chloe’s head, only for the pressure upon her lips to come back again, firmer, half a second later. They kissed with the novelty of two strangers meeting up for the first time; and with a note of familiarity hitting the senses, as a place you know but never really set foot in. It wasn’t a lustful kiss nor was it a chaste kiss. Just one kiss, simple and pleasant.

The pulling apart was the hardest. It would be the consolidator of the recent events. The tone was to be set; whether Chloe was being playful or deliberate, Max would follow suit.

Max was able to catch a fleck of a closed-eyed Chloe, right before she opened them, blue meeting blue. Their faces remained very close, body warmth in between; the definition of intimate. Chloe moved first, closer, and Max thought she was going to kiss her again, which she did, but on the cheek instead. In other circumstances it would have felt friendly, but Max couldn’t help the little chills descending her spine.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chloe murmured with a heavy pause, wind throwing blue tresses around her face, “but I kind of want to do that again.”

Max’s chest expanded to allow it; the thing, immense and everlasting, that appeared sometimes when she and Chloe were together. She felt too warm, despite the 61º, and breathed in the cold air, bringing its calmness inside. Chloe had asked her a question; it wasn't the time to lose her mind.

“No. I don’t mind. Not at all.” She finished, licking her dry lips, unsure of what would happen next. Waiting.

Chloe broke into a big smile. One of those she used to display when feeling genuine happiness. Free of any malice. _She looks like some sort of punk rock angel._ Max yearned to do as always and take a photo of that pretty sight, but Chloe was leaning in again and she would rather live the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some additional information; this story happens in a wider time span.  
>   
> Chronology:  
> Chapter 1: Monday, October 7  
> Chapter 2: Saturday, November 9  
> Chapter 3: Tuesday, November 26

VII

 

_I can’t believe we are really doing this._ The lock clicked open, making Chloe smile as she was the Devil himself. They slipped inside the building of the Swimming Pool, at the ungodly hours of the night.

Once again, Chloe had managed to cajole Max into partaking in borderline criminal activities. And Chloe _knew_ how to be persuasive.

“Max, relax… I live with that bastard, I know his routine.” Chloe shook Max’s shoulder a little bit, “He’s like, compulsive or something. Besides, I went to school here, remember? Hideouts are my expertise.” Chloe turned and continued on the task of unlocking the doors in the way to the pool. Max had been sulky since the reality of what they were doing hit her. She could be expelled or even arrested. _I’m an adult, for God’s sake!_ But Chloe moaned endlessly about not wasting the unusual warm day and going to swim.

Max followed the path pioneered by Chloe, dutifully closing every door behind her, just to be sure. When Max arrived at the pool area, the underwater lights turned on, bathing everything in flickering blue hues. Chloe came out of the office already shedding her jacket. _Has she done this before?_

Max stood there, not knowing what to do with herself, while Chloe became progressively undressed. She wanted to see at the same measure she wanted to hide. Settling for examining the tiles around her feet instead.

When the hustling of fabric stopped, she dared to look in Chloe’s direction. Blue hair, black top, colorful bottom, lots of pale skin. Max averted her eyes to the floor again; she could sense the teasing remark about to spill from Chloe’s smug lips.

Chloe covertly breathed out a chuckle. “Dude, come on. Strip!” she said, jumping into the water in mermaid style.

That little act of compassion warmed her up. Max felt more at ease then, deciding to drop her worries regarding that shady situation for the moment, and started to undress before Chloe soaked her clothes for good. _So impatient._

She stripped down to her unimpressive underwear, equally avoiding Chloe, whose gaze she could feel. Max back walked a few steps and then ran to the pool, jumping into it in cannon ball style.

The two girls immediately started a playful fight of water splashes. Feeling as joyful as two kids with the summer all ahead. Laughing as if it wasn’t after midnight and they didn’t have a Breaking & Entering looming over their heads. Life was just that good.

Chloe, as the sore loser she was, resorted to overtaking her enemy’s artillery and managed to get a hold on Max’s wrists, stopping the water warfare at once. Max, still in belligerent mode, tried to escape her grasp, but it was too tight and they ended up standing very close. Chests and bellies touching.

Was that the telltale line between platonic and romantic? When you look up at your best friend of years and wish they would kiss you.

Chloe loosened her hold on Max’s wrists, leaning down without preamble to connect their lips. Max’s, now, free hands found their favorite spot around Chloe’s neck. Chloe’s hands on Max’s hips, keeping their bodies steady against the wavering water.

They had been like this since that day at the beach. Allowing their feelings when those moments would arise. Reinforced by the discovery that being your best friend’s ‘significant other’ didn’t mean the destruction of friendship. It made them close in brand new ways.

Chloe slid her lips all the way, from the line of Max’s jaw to her ear, nibbling on the lobe, eliciting unmentionable sensations in Max, following the descent of her throat and settling on her neck. Kissing, sucking, biting.

The once effortless act of breathing turned into a distant memory, one way or another she was suffocating; too much air, too little air. Pleasure was somewhat close from suffering. It amazed Max how seemingly inane things, like Chloe’s lips on her neck, could evoke that many feelings; could make her reckless and impulsive.

Otherwise, Max would never have the spirit to fist Chloe’s hair and force her head up, crashing their mouths together. Max wasn’t daring, Max wasn’t assertive, Max wasn’t imposing. And yet, there she was, losing her composure on the school’s pool in the dead of the night.

Chloe pulled away, breathless and overwhelmed, “Damn, you’re really into it...” she smirked, satisfied with herself. Max refused to let Chloe’s teasing get to her and kept the eye contact, even if she could feel her ears burning. Undeterred, Chloe went lower, “Y’know, maybe we should skinny-dip.”

Max couldn’t anymore; rolling her eyes, she pushed Chloe’s shoulder, the girl stumbled back a few steps, laughing, drunk in her victory of sorts.

“Ha-ha” Max said, plain unamused, turning to climb the edge of the pool, “Have you never watched a horror movie?” Chloe followed her out. “The couple having sex in the open is the first to get killed by the psychopath.” She said it and regretted it in the same second. So many bold statements in one fucking sentence. Chloe would tease her ‘till the end of time. _Please Lord, let me live._

Max watched then, a rare occurrence happening, Chloe stood there, eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks colored pink, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The picture of embarrassment. _Now we’re even._

“So that’s what you’ve been thinking all night, perv,” Chloe was able to come up with. But she was still blushing and the remark lost its bite. Max was learning bit by bit how to undo the Chloe Price.

They proceeded on get dressed, trembling and whimpering amidst the cold air. Max had just finished lacing her shoes when a security guard appeared by the door, light flashing on their direction. The girls sprinted inside the locker room, Chloe’s hand on Max’s wrist. She guided them to the bathroom and they hid in the farthest stall until the guard was out of earing field. Then, both girls, as quietly as possible, made their way to the door from which the guard had come from.

Outside, they dodged the other security guards around and managed to reach the parking lot, cutting through bushes and jumping short walls. They were inside the truck and on the road in time record (thing they were quite good on).

_Being a criminal is so thrilling._ Max heart pumped hard against her ribs; she couldn’t wipe the mad grin off of her face. Chloe seemed calmer and controlled, but excited just the same. “You can’t go back to your dorm now. Crash at my place.”

 

VIII

 

Max woke up feeling disoriented. Different ceiling and walls. Yep, definitely not her dorm room. Something moved behind her, cuddled against her body. _Ah yes_.

Chloe stirred; opening her eyes just to close them again, and looped an arm around Max’s waist, squeezing her close as if she were a Teddy Bear; face buried deep on Max’s hair.

It emphasized how much of a loving person Chloe actually was. Even if the hardship she went through in the latest years had turned her into someone tough in the outside, Chloe’s true nature was of a zealous and amorous person. Max grinned wide at the idea that her presence could bring it back. _She’s like… a petit gateau._

Max’s reached for her camera and clumsily tried to frame them both, the familiar overbearing flash making Chloe hug her harder. “Good morning to you too” she mumbled.

Max chuckled at that, before responding “Good morning.” It was the first time in over five years that she had a sleepover. And with Chloe, no less! She was never this close with her other friends. But then, Chloe wasn’t just a friend; she was her partner in crime, her best friend, her special friend, _girlfriend?_

Before Max could dive too much into semantics, a pair of clever lips settled upon the nape of her neck. Leaving the softest row of kisses. Max was new to the concept of neck kissing, and it already had demonstrated to be a great weakness of her. One that Chloe was well aware of. And that she shamelessly exploited.

They were already lost in kisses when Max’s phone alarm rung, interrupting the two love birds. Max jumped upright, breathless and disheveled, in Chloe’s t-shirt and shorts. She dug her phone from her bag and turned the alarm off, placing it on the desk. “I really need to get dressed.” But because her clothes from the previous day were contaminated in chlorine, Chloe offered her ‘fashion hole’ for Max to seek something suitable.

She ended up on Rachel Amber’s clothes. It seemed they were the same size. Such a coincidence. Max actually liked the attire, even though band t-shirts, ragged jeans and plaid didn’t appear much on her wardrobe, it wasn’t an alien visual. Chloe tugged a bit of the bottom of the t-shirt inside the pants and with a flourish of approval, declared in a very serious manner “Max, you look hella hot.”

‘Hot’ wasn’t a word Max had heard on descriptions about her. Chloe had called her cute and pretty, once or twice. But she looked hot on Rachel’s clothes. And being compared to Rachel Amber in any scope felt so unfair. She had seen her pictures and heard long tales about her. Rachel Amber was Arcadia Bay’s Laura Palmer.

For sure Max sought after Chloe’s acceptance; her forgiveness; any smile she could incite was a goddam victory. But she stood there, in front of the girl she was falling for, feeling like a step down to the ghost of a girl long gone. Bright and unreachable. And she decided then and there that she wouldn’t be a replacement, if that was what Chloe was searching for.

“Max, you okay?” Chloe asked, cutting Max’s digression.

The look of concern, the hand tenderly rubbing on her shoulder blade, the way Chloe’s stance seemed ready to catch her, would she fall. She didn’t want to fight with that lovely girl. At least not in that moment; she would bring the subject up in another time, yes.

And so, Max lied through her teeth “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… need to eat something, I guess.” She fake smiled at Chloe, “I’m going to wash up.” She said, pointing behind her to the general direction of the bathroom.

“Fine.” Chloe gave her a suspicious look “Blue toothbrush!” she yelled just as Max was closing the door.

She went through the impromptu morning routine, feeling the uneasiness leaving her at the same rate she focused on the ritual, and by the end she felt fresh again. She would talk to Chloe about her insecurities later, but for now, Max would rather enjoy that nice morning in the company of her girl. She could even feel the alluring smell of breakfast being prepared downstairs. _Everything is fine._

Max went back to Chloe’s room, she was still on bed. The moment Max entered, Chloe laid on her back, her expression sour. Max could sense that something was definitely off.

“What’s up Chloe?” she asked, trying to sound the most natural her poor acting skills could manage. The uneasy feeling creeping back in her stomach; hands getting cold.

Chloe turned, facing away from Max. “You’re leaving,” she said in a measured flat voice. “Ah! And also, your buddy-boy Warren _really_ wants to bang you, by the way.” Chloe threw Max’s phone over her shoulder, it bounced mutely on the mattress. The object seemed heavy and criminal, like a smoky gun or bloody knife.

Max wanted to be mad, but she felt sadness instead, because she understood where Chloe’s hurt and distrust came from. Her heart clenched at the way Chloe’s voice trembled in the end. Max reminded herself to breathe deeply, walked the three steps to the bed and sat on her legs on the side opposite to Chloe. “Chloe, look at me,” she demanded, yet soft-spoken. Chloe obliged and rolled onto her back again, her eyes glinting with the prospect of tears. Max’s throat closed off painfully. _Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry._

“First of all, Chloe, you can’t invite yourself to other people’s phone. It’s rude. Secondly, Warren is my friend and no-one is gonna bang no-one; aside, maybe, you and me” the sassy little jest threw Chloe off, (as Max thought it would) her eyes went a bit wide and she stared directly at Max. “And lastly, I’m not ‘leaving’, I’m gonna spend the Thanksgiving with my parents and then I’ll be back. Just like that” Max finished, matter-of-factly.

Chloe fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt, eyes darting from her hands to Max’s face a couple times. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“My mom just text me yesterday. And we were kinda busy, remember?” she smirked, “I ended up forgetting about it.”

Chloe kept quiet, looking away from Max. The situation still bothering her. She parted her lips, as if to say something but seemed to decide against it. The silence was never so deafening.

“Come on, Chloe. It will be three days” Max insisted, her nails digging into her cold palms, begging for Chloe to understand. “We still can talk to each other. I’ll text you all the boring stuff I’m doing, in sordid details.”

Chloe looked straight at Max, with fire in her eyes “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” With that, she stood up and opened her closet, idly scrolling through the clothes, and added, coldly “Go have breakfast, Joyce will feed you.” Max surrendered and let Chloe be.

She appeared downstairs when Max was finishing her pancakes, she didn’t sit nor eat anything, just called after Max, telling she would drive her to Blackwell. The entire way Chloe kept a blank expression on her face; never letting her eyes stray from the road; loud music on the car radio, so no-one had to say anything.

Max’s throat was dry and tight, her eyes switched from the landscape, to her wriggling hands, to the side of Chloe’s head. Max didn’t think she was in the wrong, but that didn’t mean that Chloe was right, but at the same time she wasn’t _wrong_ either. And it left them standing on that fucking gray silence.

The truck stopped abruptly in front of the main building, Chloe didn’t spare a look to her. It stung Max how uncalled it was, but she knew better than to be confrontational with someone who was pretending not to care. She exited the car and controlled herself to not slam the door. In ten seconds, Chloe’s truck was out of sight.

Max expelled a long breath and dragged herself to an exciting and promising school day.

 

IX

 

It felt like a small eternity but the classes had ended at last. Max pushed her way through the crowd of students, with Warren in tow, talking her ear off about the Coriolis Effect or something. She would have liked to pay more attention but she was feeling beyond tired at that moment. Sometimes Max wished that Warren was more sensitive.

They climbed down the steps, Max planning on going straight to her dorm room, Warren still talking. When they reached the bottom of the stairs and the crowd cleared out, sitting by the fountain, right in front of her, she spotted the punk with her bright blue hair.

They recognized each other and Chloe immediately stood up, signaling that Max could approach. Max waved a ‘catch you later’ at Warren and took her leave.

She felt nervous, walking up to Chloe. Their fight still unresolved in her mind. They stood awkwardly, a cautious distance between them; Chloe looked a bit uncertain of her posture; whether to let her hands in her pockets or hanging by her sides. Or in which leg she should rest her weight.

“Hey” Max started.

“Hey.” Chloe kind of avoided prolonged eye contact. “You wanna hang out?”

“Yeah. Sure. It would be nice. Yes.” It was weird how acting ‘natural’ wasn’t a thing one could simulate. Max certainly couldn’t, at least.

The drive was, once again, a silent one, but there was no anger or resentment this time. And the radio softly played a row of apology songs _(did Chloe…?)_ before they reached their destination.

Chloe parked at the camping area, near the school. She jumped off the truck and went straight to the big clearing, finding their favorite picnic table, and sat on the top, feet firm on the bench, facing sun; flecks of sea between the branches of the trees. Max followed her, sitting a few inches away.

Max felt the old itch to photograph everything, the surroundings were the sum of an autumn: trees yellow to red, dry flying leaves, squirrels running with their mouths full, ripe apples weighting the branches. For a minute she forgot the reason they were there.

For a clean slate.

When Max returned her gaze to Chloe, she found her already looking; a certain fondness in her eyes. But with Max reciprocating the contact, Chloe’s antsy demeanor slid back into place. She turned her head to the front and then let it hang between her bony shoulders; her nervous fingers tangled into each other, fighting.

She seemed to build her resolve and lose it a couple times. Sucking in breathes and keeping them trapped before losing the air, the words and the courage. Max wanted to smile at how cute it was.

“I’m sorry.” Chloe said at last. She looked up at Max, searching her reaction. “For earlier, today. It wasn’t okay how I treated you. I overreacted.” Chloe’s face was pink but she didn’t avoid Max’s eyes anymore, she repeated one more time “I’m sorry.”

Max nodded before saying in a soft voice “It’s okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. Max wasn’t mad, but the situation had hurt, although the fact that Chloe came to her, to apologize, was a great relief. She continued, “I understand, y’know.” She made a pause, assessing Chloe “Why you got mad.”

Chloe squirmed, debating with herself, she decided and said “You know how shitty my life is.” She righted her position “Every time. People I love leave me without saying shit. And I never got to see them again.”

“I know I’m guilty of this too. But that’s on the past.” Max ventured and took one of Chloe’s wrists in her hand, “I want you to believe me when I say I’m not gonna leave you again.” Her grasp strong, alive, sincere, against the fast beating pulse.

Emotion filled Chloe’s eyes, “Max… I- Thank you.” she pulled Max closer and hugged her.

Max returned the hug, willing to convey her forgiveness and allow them both to progress. Chloe squeezed her tightly, as if pouring into that action all the impossible words she had inside her chest.

They pulled apart smiling to each other. Small and embarrassed, but accomplished nonetheless.

Before she noticed it, they were sitting very close, Chloe’s thigh bumping playfully into hers. Normalcy falling back into place. Max didn’t want to disturb it, but she remembered something that she would rather discuss there, when they were being open and vulnerable, than to procrastinate and complicate things further.

She fumbled on her spot, “Hmm… Chloe, there’s something I want to talk about.” Chloe eyed Max a bit alarmed, biting on her lower lip. Max continued even if the words failed her on the process, “You know I… I like you lots, right?”

“Yeesss.” Chloe half-answered, half-questioned; she was definitely scared, that ‘talk’ resonating terribly into her guts.

“And… and we’ve been… _more_ … than… p-platonic _(?)_ friends. Which I _really-really_ like.” She made a pause to breathe and straighten her line of thought “But this morning, when I dressed up on Rachel’s clothes,” she fisted the plaid flannel shirt “and started acting weird, I told you I was fine but I was actually wondering if you are really… _ready_ …to move on.”

Chloe remained still for some long seconds. Her eyebrows scrunched and eyes focused somewhere upper-left. She brought her gaze back to Max and deconstructed slowly, “Dude, are you asking me if I’m using you as a substitute for Rachel?”

Max’s entire face was burning. She didn’t mean to offend but the insecurity was worming inside her “I- yes.”

Chloe looked Max in the eyes, searching. “Is that how you feel?”

Max lowered her head, the intensity of it all crushing her. “I’m asking so I know where I stand.”

Thoughtful, Chloe examined Max’s figure for one long minute; eyes running from the cowlick on the top of her head, to her freckled nose and permanently ajar lips, to her defeated hands, and back up again.

“Max, you are my best friend; since we were five. You were the first person I ever… loved, outside family.” This time Chloe was the one holding on to Max. “Rachel was there for me when no-one else was. The things I felt for her were really important, but now it’s gone.” Chloe eyes were bright and clear, she licked her lips, swallowing the past “I used to be mad all the time, but since you came back into my life, I don’t think so much about stupid shit.” She looked at their joined hands and then back at Max’s face, _“Max”_ Chloe whispered almost “It would be a waste to pretend you were somebody else.”

Max felt overwhelmed; energetic, enthusiastic, about to cry, appreciated, loved. “I think it answers my question just fine.”

“I hope it does, dork.” Chloe joked, feigning exhaustion.

“Hey, you just said you liked it.” Max chided, gesturing to herself.

“Well, I do.” Chloe admitted and pulled Max into her, leaving a quick kiss on her lips. “Never change.”

They stayed the rest of the afternoon in the camping area, enjoying the autumn, watching the colors change in the sky, owning the moment. The next day Max would be parting to Seattle to spend the Thanksgiving with her family, and Chloe would believe her and wait three days and then crush Max’s ribs into the strongest hug ever.

And they would go on. Waiting and believing. Believing and trusting. Trusting and learning. Learning and growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting. Sorry for broken english.


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